


The Weather Outside Is Frightful

by colazitron



Series: 2015 December Holiday Fic Countdown [13]
Category: Clean Bandit (Band), Years & Years (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olly accidentally throws a snowball at a handsome stranger's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weather Outside Is Frightful

Olly remembers thinking that maybe having a snowball fight in the front yard wasn’t the best idea. Someone could walk past and judge the three grown men pelting each other with snowballs (not that olly really cares all that much about such matters anymore). Someone could walk past and accidentally get pelted themselves (and then Olly might care about what they think, because that’s just a rude thing to do). But when Emre dumped an armful of snow on Olly’s face while he was, quite peacefully, making a snow angel - what was he supposed to do? Just let it go? Olly can’t be encouraging this kind of behaviour.

So he’d spluttered, and yelled, and laughed, and jumped up, immediately sweeping up a handful of snow to hurriedly pack it into a vaguely ball shaped clump to hurl at Emre in retaliation. Mikey pretended to be above their childish antics for all of two minutes (the time it took for Olly and Emre to go from throwing snowballs at each other to throwing them at him, coincidentally), but them joined in. By now they’re all more laughing and tripping over their own feet in Mikey’s messy front yard than actually having a snowball fight, but if they were still keeping track of anything, Olly’s sure he’d be winning. He’s not the most athletic individual, but he’s got pretty good aim and he knows how to throw. Emre and Mikey really don’t stand a chance.

But then - then Emre twirls out of the way at the very last moment and Olly suddenly remembers thinking that maybe having a snowball fight out front might not be the best idea. Sadly he only remembers this about a split second before the snowball that was meant for Emre nails a bloke casually strolling by directly in the face.

Olly claps his gloved hands over his mouth, snow melting against his heated face.

For a moment the entire world feels blanketed in snow, before the stranger wipes the snow off his face and Olly’s breath gets stuck in his lungs - and not just because he’s hurrying over to apologise. The stranger is absolutely stunning - dark eyes, the most kissable lips, dark hair curling out underneath his beanie, and cheekbones that make Olly swoon and jealous in equal parts. Olly can’t tell under all the - very well put together - layers, but he’s willing to bet the rest of this stranger is just as handsome as his face. Anything else would just be unfair.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Olly calls before he’s even come to a stop. “Are you okay?”

The stranger shakes snow off his hand and blinks at Olly, still a bit perplexed. His face is pinked up from the cold and water droplets cling to his eyelashes. Olly sincerely wishes most of his brain space were actually taken up by feeling bad, but he just cannot get over the fact that the person he threw a snowball at is one of he most beautiful blokes he’s ever seen.

“Yeah,” the stranger finally says, flashing a devastating smile. “No harm done. Just a bit of snow. Not the worst thing to get hit in the face with.”

Olly’s entire brain halts with triple x rated thouhts. That’s... that’s not what he meant. Almost definitely not what he meant, but Olly can’t help thinking he wouldn’t mind being on the receiving end of such facials, if the stranger were so inclined.

“God, I’m still really sorry. We really shouldn’t have been doing this in the front yard,” Olly says, reaching up nervously for his hair automatically, only to bump into the bobble on top of his hat instead. He gives it a brief squeeze and then stuffs his hand into his coat pocket.

“It’s really okay. I wasn’t on my way anwhere, just out on a stroll. Though I think I’ll go warm up now, “ the stranger laughs.

Olly cringes a bit.

“Really, gosh, I’m so sorry.”

The stranger studies him for a brief moment and then holds out a hand.

“I’m Neil. Come have coffee with me, if you want to make it up to me.”

Olly’s eyes go wide for a second, before he fonds himself nodding. He’s never been hit on in the street like this, but hell would have to go a lot colder than Camebridge currently is before he turns down a date with a man this gorgeous.

“Um, yeah. Okay. I’m Olly,” he says, taking the offered hand and giving it a quick shake. “I just need to and grab my stuff.”

Neil nods and Olly whirls around before he can change his mind, bypassing Mikey and Emre’s confused faces to grab his phone, wallet, and keys from inside.

“What’s going on?” Emre asks when he’s coming back out.

Olly grins giddily. “I've got a date, it seems. Don't wait up, I guess.”

“Thank me at the wedding!” Emre calls after him.

Judging by Neil’s grin, he heard, so Olly hooks his arm through Neil’s and pulls him away.

“Ignore them, they’re morons.”

Neil laughs and leads Olly down the street.

(Olly does thank Emre via an enthusiastic and graphic text the following morning.)

 

****

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Come leave me [prompts ](http://fille-lioncelle.tumblr.com/ask) if you want


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